


you found a girl (and you're married now)

by holbywolfe



Category: Holby City
Genre: Anniversaries, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluffy Smut, Heavy Angst, I'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:39:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holbywolfe/pseuds/holbywolfe
Summary: Over the years, Bernie and Serena learn to come to terms with Serena’s loss.Snippets from some of the anniversaries of Elinor’s death.





	you found a girl (and you're married now)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my amazing beta @drizzly_bear!  
> I'm so sorry in advance

**_one._ **

The first year Bernie spends with Jason, because Serena is _still_ away, and because he has lost a cousin. As much as Bernie tried not to let it happen, Serena took up most of her energy, and Jason had sometimes got swept up in Serena’s grief; occasionally having to forget his own in order to care for his aunt.

 

She invites him for dinner, it isn’t their normal Thursday night but Bernie does her best to disrupt his routine as little as possible. They order takeaway and eat it on the sofa, a slideshow of pictures of Elinor playing on Jason’s laptop in front of them. They sit eating ice cream out of the tub and Jason cries for his cousin and Bernie cries for Serena. Serena, who is alone somewhere in France on the anniversary of her daughter’s death. Bernie longs to be with her, to support her or just sit and be a verbal punching bag. Hell, she’d even be a physical punching bag if that’s something Serena wanted, or needed _._ They watch Elinor’s smile roll over the screen, until the slideshow is interrupted by a skype call.

 

‘ _Auntie Serena’_ flashes across the screen and Bernie’s never moved faster; reaching over to press the accept button. The connection isn’t the best, but she can see that Serena’s been crying. _As expected._ She puts the tub of ice-cream on the coffee table and lets her hand rest on top of Jason’s, and Serena smiles a little when she sees. Bernie hasn’t seen Serena since she left; they’ve only texted when necessary and called in times of despair, but never skyped. Her hair is cropped short and her silvery grey roots are poking through. Bernie thinks she looks nothing short of breathtaking _._

 

“Hello,” she croaks out after what feels like minutes. She sees a smile break out on Serena’s face and she smiles back in return.

 

“Hello, Auntie Serena,” Jason says, and Bernie feels the sudden need to be grounded, by something, _anything._ So she squeezes Jason’s hand and he turns it over and entwines their fingers, his hand providing a small measure of comfort

 

“How’ve you both been?” Serena asks, and Bernie feels a lone tear trail down her cheek, sniffles a bit and wipes it away quickly. She feels guilty for crying, because she has no reason to be emotional in comparison to what Serena has gone through, is still going through. She shakes the thought from her head and focuses on the here and now. Serena is as here as she can be while in another country.

 

They make small talk for a while, Bernie asks Serena about how France is, Serena asks how AAU is going, and they laugh about Ric, bridging the ever-growing gap between them by teasing a colleague. Serena asks Jason if she can speak to Bernie in private for a while, and Jason nods before clambering off the couch and up the stairs into his room.

 

“How are you really going?” Serena asks, knows that Bernie puts on a brave face when Jason is with her.

 

“I think I should be asking you that question, Serena,” she says, and Serena gives a sad smile before looking down at something she’s been holding in her hand.

 

“I wanted to tell you that I’m ready to come home,” she whispers, bringing what she has been looking at in her lap up into view, and Bernie can now see that they’re plane tickets.

 

“Oh,” Bernie breathes, because she doesn’t really know what else to say, doesn’t know what she could say if she was better at using words to express how she feels.

 

“Is that a good ‘Oh’ or a bad ‘Oh’?” Serena says, and Bernie gets a glimpse at the old Serena. Bernie doesn’t need to answer because she starts to smile, to positively _beam_ , and Serena picks this up as a good sign.

“That’s good,” Bernie croaks out after a while, deciding that this is one of the best late Christmas presents she’s ever had. _Do you get New Year’s presents? Because this is definitely one._

 

Bernie calls Jason back down and Serena tells him the good news, allowing him to ask all the questions he needs to come to terms with this new development in his family unit’s life.

 

 

 

**_three._ **

 

 

On the third anniversary of Elinor’s death Bernie gets a call from Charlotte. She and Serena are still curled around each other as Bernie had tried to comfort Serena in her fitful sleep. She groans and extracts herself from the bed, picking up her phone and making her way to the bathroom. She leans on the edge of the sink and answers, hearing sniffles from the other end of the line.

 

“Charlotte?” she whispers, conscious of her sleeping fiancée next door.

 

“I’ve got something to tell you, but I’m having second thoughts about telling you today,” Charlotte chokes out.

 

“What’s happened, why can’t you tell me today?” she says, voice raising despite being able to hear Serena stirring.

 

“I just don’t want today to be about me, because of Elinor,” Charlotte’s little voice says. Bernie can tell she’s been crying. _Charlotte doesn’t cry._

 

“Serena won’t mind, if something’s wrong Charlotte,” Bernie reasons, then hears the bathroom door creak open and Serena pad up behind her.

 

“Serena won’t mind what?” Serena says and snuggles into Bernie’s back, ear just close enough to hear Charlotte sniffling on the other end of the line. Bernie turns her head slightly to look at her, Serena’s face a painting of confusion. Bernie shakes her head and raises her eyebrows.

 

“Come over, Charlotte,” Serena whispers into the phone, hears another sniffle and a quiet murmur of assent before the line goes dead.

 

“Is she alright?” Serena asks as they walk back into the bedroom. Bernie goes to the back of the door and picks up both of their robes, throwing one at Serena and pulling the string on her own tight around her waist.

 

“I don’t know,” Bernie says, worry evident in her voice. Serena squeezes her arm and pads downstairs to make coffee, getting out three mugs and placing them one by one under the machine.

 

A knock at the door twenty minutes later alerts them to Charlotte’s arrival. Serena puts her mug of coffee in the microwave as Bernie goes to answer the door. Charlotte is standing at the doorstep in an oversized hoodie and leggings, her long brunette hair tied up into a messy bun. Her eyes are still showing the morning’s crying, the rims tinged red and her face a bit blotchy.

 

“What’s wrong, Charlotte?” Bernie whispers into her hair as she gathers her up into a hug. Charlotte’s soft whimpers turn into full throttle cries, which Serena hears from the kitchen.

 

 _Not Elinor. Not Elinor. It’s not Elinor._ She reminds herself as she walks into the hallway, spotting the two messy mops of hair and hearing Charlotte’s sobs. Bernie feels Serena’s presence behind her, feels one of Serena’s hands rest in the small of her back, the other coming up to lightly stroke Charlotte’s hair.

 

“Charlotte?” Serena whispers, giving her a sympathetic smile. Charlotte breaks away from her mother’s arms, but Bernie grasps her hand and pulls slightly in the direction of the living room. Serena goes to the kitchen to retrieve Charlotte’s coffee, then brings it into the living room to find both women sitting on the sofa. She hands over the coffee then perches on the edge of the armchair.

 

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte sniffles, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve. She coughs and Bernie reaches over to take the mug before it spills everywhere.

 

“Don’t be silly Charlotte, tell us what’s wrong,” Serena chastises, moving to sit on the arm of the sofa; closer to Bernie and her daughter.

 

“I, um, dad and I had an argument this morning,” she finally manages to say, her voice quiet and her head held low.

 

“What about?” Bernie asks, she can feel the rage bubbling inside her at the notion of Marcus saying anything remotely malicious to Charlotte. Charlotte looks awkwardly over at Serena, her mum, then down at her lap. Bernie gets what she is trying to say with her eyes and turns to Serena.  


“Could you give us a mo?” she asks, a weak smile on her face despite the pursed lips. 

 

“Course,” Serena says, getting up off the sofa and squeezing Bernie’s shoulder before retreating to the kitchen.

Bernie looks back over to Charlotte who has started chewing on her bottom lip, wringing her hands together.

 

“What happened, Charlotte.”

 

 

 

Serena knows she shouldn’t listen, knows that this is something private between mother and daughter, something Charlotte doesn’t want her to know. She thinks that if it were her own daughter she’d be angry at Bernie for listening after being told not to. But in truth she can’t stop herself, can’t quite bring herself to leave them completely alone. She sits herself on the bench with her coffee in a spot covered by a wall, a spot not visible from the living room. She listens and listens but is only rewarded with silence from the living room, until she hears a whisper and a familiar sounding splutter. She smiles for a moment at the sound of Bernie coughing, then realises it’s a different sort of coughing, not a throaty cough, more of a disbelieving choke.

 

“You’re what?” she hears Bernie say, not even bothering to be quiet anymore.

Serena feels the pit of her stomach drop. For all the days Charlotte could have chosen to share this sort of news, today is so very far from ideal. Serena shakes herself, thinks that maybe she’s overthinking it and Charlotte just got some mundane news like moving out or switching university courses. Reasons again with herself that if it was something so boring she wouldn’t have minded Serena being in the room.

She hears the clink of keys in the living room and then loud footsteps and the front door open and slam shut, thinks that Charlotte must have left. She tentatively walks into the living room, and is surprised when instead of finding Bernie, she finds Charlotte is still sitting on the couch, tears glistening in her eyes and her hands shaking.

 

“Charlotte?” she says, walking over and gently sitting down next to her soon-to-be-stepdaughter. “What happened with Bernie?”

She thinks that maybe that wasn’t the best question to ask, that maybe she could have beaten round the bush for a bit, so to speak. But Charlotte sniffles and gestures towards the door with her head.

 

“She went to go kill dad, I think,” she says and finally laughs, earning a chuckle from Serena too.

 

“Shall we get the shovel and go and help her?” Serena says, trying her best to keep the mood light before she asks the inevitable question of _“What’s wrong.”_

 

“She’ll be long gone by now, was in a right strop when she left,” Charlotte says, picking up her coffee and taking a sip.

 

“Yes, I think I got the memo,” Serena says, chuckles a little and reaches out to squeeze Charlotte’s hand. “You know that if something is happening you can tell me, even today, Charlotte. You’re the closest thing to a daughter I’ve got left.” Charlotte closes her eyes and turns her palm over to clasp Serena’s hand.

 

“I just don’t want to be insensitive,” Charlotte whispers. Serena shakes her head and tugs on Charlotte’s hand slightly so she shuffles closer. They sit next to each other and Serena envelops her in a hug; allows herself a moment to imagine it’s her own daughter.

 

“You wouldn’t be,” she whispers into her hair, remembers all the times she’s sat like this with Elinor, feels the press of tears behind her eyelids and lets out a shaky breath.

 

 

 

“Marcus!” Bernie shouts as she storms from her car up his driveway. He turns round so fast she’s sure he’ll have whiplash by the time she’s finished with him, on top of a whole number of other Bernie-induced injuries.

 

“What do _you_ want?” he says, dropping his secateurs and rolling his eyes.

  
“How dare you speak to Charlotte like that,” she sneers, pointing at him and narrowing her eyes.

 

“Like what? She made a mistake, I made it clear to her that what she did was wrong,” Marcus says, clearly not of the same mindset as Bernie.

 

“She didn’t make a mistake, Marcus, she’s an adult, she knew full well what she was doing,” Bernie shouts, flailing her arms about to reiterate her point.

 

“I hope you go to the clinic with her, I’m having nothing to do with this,” he says, turning his lip up and scowling at Bernie.

 

“Get _fucked_ Marcus.”

 

Bernie knows she’s won the argument because Marcus storms inside, leaving her victorious. She walks back to the car and drives home to her fiancé and daughter feeling smug.

 

 

When Charlotte finally utters the words, she cries, and then Serena cries; for Charlotte and Bernie and for the new addition to the family, but also, _always_ , for Elinor, who will never get to be a parent, who will never give Serena the opportunity to _really_ be a grandparent. Bernie comes home from her surprisingly non-violent argument with Marcus to find the two most important women in her life crying together on the sofa, and for the first time in her life she decides to join them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**_four._ **

 

The fourth anniversary passes in a flurry of nappies and rattles and new baby smell. They have Christmas together; Charlotte bouncing baby Ella on her lap and Bernie piling everyone’s plate high with food. Even Marcus had been convinced to come, if only to spend some time with his new granddaughter.

 

The third of January arrives and Bernie makes sure they aren’t down to babysit; calling Charlotte just to be sure. Unlike the chaos of last year Bernie wants to be sure Serena knows that Elinor is acknowledged, and she plans the day to allow for breaks for Serena to rest and think of her daughter.

 

Bernie brings her wife coffee and pastries for breakfast, wakes her up with gentle kisses to her cheek until Serena is coherent enough to eat. She hums into the hot coffee and Bernie lies beside her, watching her smile and eat. For a moment, Bernie wonders if Serena knows what day it is; she seems too happy for it to be the fourth year to the day since her daughter died. The moment passes when Serena spends a tiny bit too long staring at her plate and Bernie knows she knows and chastises herself for thinking Serena might have forgotten.

 

Things seem to be returning to as close to normal as they could be. Jason visits Alan once a week and Serena has monthly therapy and most of the time Bernie goes with her. Serena doesn’t cry herself to sleep anymore, hasn’t for a while, and Bernie doesn’t have to worry so much about her wife’s welfare.

 

Serena sometimes has a look on her face when Charlotte and Ella are with them, a look that speaks more than the tears that sometimes come after it. It’s a look that mourns for a daughter, and a biological grandchild she will never have.

 

Bernie thinks about their wedding, thinks about Charlotte’s present to them; a card stuck to her swollen belly with the name ‘Ella’ written on it. Her face glowing with pride and love for her mothers and the tiny human growing inside her. _“For Elinor,”_ Charlotte had said, and Serena had broken down and sobbed in her wife’s arms, staining her white cardigan with her tears.

 

Serena brings her thoughts back to the present when she reaches down and combs her fingers through Bernie’s unruly hair. Bernie smiles and looks up at her, smiling a small smile. She reaches up to the hand in her hair and tangles their fingers together, bringing the hand to her lips and planting a light kiss on the back of Serena’s. Serena smiles and puts her coffee down on the bedside table, shuffles down to lie face to face with Bernie. She smiles and Bernie smiles back, starts stroking the back of Serena’s hand with her thumb.

 

“Penny for them?” Serena asks, voice quiet and mindful of Jason a few rooms down.

 

Bernie never knows how to respond when Serena asks this question, least of all today. She doesn’t want to tell Serena she was thinking of her own _alive_ daughter and granddaughter. She always seems to resort to answering in other means, usually opting for a kiss or by gathering Serena into her arms. She reasons that regardless of the date, today is no different, and if Serena isn’t of the same mindset as Bernie she will say so.

 

Serena’s t-shirt has bunched up at the bottom, revealing the side of her abdomen and just hiding her belly button. Bernie moves her free hand down and lightly brushes her fingers over the skin, feeling the muscles quiver slightly under her hand from the cold of her fingers and the anticipation. Serena lets out a slight whimper and covers Bernie’s wandering hand with her own, bringing it higher to rest on her breast. Bernie smiles and leans in to kiss her wife, kneading slightly and brushing her thumb over her nipple through her top. Serena lets go of Bernie’s hand and brings it down to scrape her nails along her thighs, up and down in languid movements. Bernie responds with a nibble on Serena’s bottom lip and her hand becomes more determined on her breast. Serena’s hands move up and under Bernie’s vest top, up to gently pinch her nipples. Bernie whimpers into the kiss and Serena takes pity on her; taking her mouth away and moving down to mouth her nipples through her vest.

 

“Jesus, Serena,” she whimpers.

 

“I normally prefer goddess, but for you I’ll make an exception,” Serena replies, her breath hot on the damp patch on Bernie’s vest. She tries to find the willpower to laugh, but Serena has turned her onto her back and is slipping one hand into Bernie’s shorts and one hand to her mouth, covering it and muffling the whimpers as she bites Bernie’s nipple and strokes her with her fingers.

 

Sometimes it is like this; Serena needs to take from Bernie after a hard or bad day and Bernie can’t deny Serena what she wants. Serena needs to take Bernie up to high peaks and then let her come crashing down again, always covering her mouth. Bernie can’t tell if it’s to keep her quiet or to stop herself from crashing their mouths together, maybe wanting to detach from the situation for a moment. But it always ends with them kissing. Bernie never know when exactly she takes her hand away, is always too preoccupied with what Serena’s fingers and sometimes her mouth is doing. But somehow somewhere along the way either Serena’s need is satisfied or her resolve dissipates because they always end with their mouths locked together.

 

Today is like this. Bernie whimpers against Serena’s hand and pouts her lips a little so that Serena can feel them against the fingers of her left hand, the fingers of her right caressing Bernie’s other set of lips. Bernie’s whimpers become muffled moans as Serena speeds up and increases the pressure, dipping her fingers in very slightly, but just enough to feel Bernie clench around the tips as she comes. She removes her hand from Bernie’s mouth and starts to kiss her, she always kisses Bernie when she comes, knowing that her wife will be too distracted to notice when exactly.

 

“That was dangerous,” Bernie says when Serena has stopped kissing her. “Jason’s just down the hall.”

 

“I don’t really care,” Serena says, then smiles down at Bernie and plants another kiss to her swollen lips.

 

Eventually they manage to drag themselves out of bed. Bernie takes Serena out for a late lunch and then to the cemetery. Walking with Serena to Ellie’s grave and sitting with her until Serena tells her to _“go make sure the car is locked.”_ Bernie has discovered this is Serena’s way of saying she wants time alone to remember her daughter without her wife and the pressing reminder that her daughter is very much alive and well. Bernie squeezes her hand, nods, and meanders back to the car with hazy eyes and her hands shoved in tight fists in her pockets. She sits in the driver’s seat and watches Serena who is leaning on Ellie’s gravestone and talking, tears streaming down her face and body shaking. Bernie thinks that Serena is updating Ellie on the previous months, maybe telling her about Charlotte’s new baby and being as close to a grandmother as she will ever be.

 

She wanders back to the car red faced and shaky, and Bernie just presses a kiss to her cheek as she does up her seatbelt.

 

 

**_ten._ **

****

When the third of January rolls round for the tenth year _since,_ they are fresh grandmothers again. With the seventh year brings Cameron and Morven’s announcement, and then then the baby arrives, and then they are drafted to babysit yet again.

 

When Ella is six and Harry is three Bernie and Serena take everyone on a holiday to Paris. They plan to spend Elinor’s anniversary there. Serena had said that Ellie had always wanted to go. They walk around museums as a family of seven and stay in a hotel where chaos unfolds as the two kids frantically play chasey and knock multiple things over in the process. AAU survives (just) without its co-leads and two of its registrars for the two weeks, and Bernie has ensured they will phone her if they need a second opinion on a trauma case. Serena has so much fun with the kids and with Bernie that she does actually forget for a moment when the day comes.

 

Like every year, Bernie holds her close the night before and holds her closer in the morning. The confusion on Serena’s face as she wakes up and Bernie pulls her closer flickers for a moment before she realises why her wife is so cuddly. Bernie takes her out to lunch and they speak French to each other and to the waiter. Serena takes Bernie to some of her favourite places from when she was here the first year. She bumps into her French therapist on the street and he smiles, although he probably doesn’t remember her. It’s been over nine years and so many more patients later. Bernie hails a taxi and they go back to the hotel and crawl into bed. Charlotte, Morven and Cameron have taken the kids somewhere else for the afternoon to give Serena some space.

 

Even now, so long later, everyone feels like on this day of every year they are walking on eggshells around Serena, feel that they need to give her some space to think about her _other_ daughter. Bernie doesn’t really follow this. She treats Serena the same as on other days, and Serena is grateful for that constant, that normality that Bernie provides. Serena cries in Bernie’s arms that night as she falls asleep. It has been a decade since Elinor died and although the memories are slowly fading the pain still feels fresh enough for it to be the fourth of January 2017.

 

**_thirty four._ **

 

The thirty fourth year since Ellie died is the first year she spends without Bernie. She doesn’t even bother to think about getting out of bed. Hasn’t moved from her cave of duvet for what feels like years, though has in reality probably been only days. The flow of time seems to be different without Bernie. ‘ _Time is a social construct’_ brings a new meaning now, without her daughter and without her wife.  
  
Serena’s world seems to have come crashing down around her. She feels like she has been left an empty shell. Jason has long since moved on, gone to live with his fiancé, leaving her alone in a big empty house. Honking laughter no longer echoes through the corridors and the rooms are as lonely as her shattered heart.

 

Charlotte came round after the funeral to cuddle and cry with Serena. They spent the day in bed and all Serena could think of was that it was the _wrong Wolfe_ nestled into her side _._

Jason and Cameron come round on the anniversary and let themselves in. They know Serena wouldn’t have gotten out of bed without the support of the wife that she had gotten so used to in the past thirty-four years. Cameron comes into the bedroom to find Serena’s back to the door. She’s facing away from him but her body is shaking and he knows she’s been crying all day. She doesn’t even flinch when he clicks the door shut, and she can’t quite bring herself to care that she hasn’t got any pyjamas on from a night of hot sweats and no Bernie there to cuddle her. He pads up to the bed and sits down, reaching out to place a warm hand on Serena’s bare shoulder. She finally turns over and lies on her back, tears streaming down the sides of her face and whole body wracking with silent sobs. It’s been two months and three days since her wife died and a week since the funeral, and she swears she didn’t even cry this much for Ellie in the early days, reasons with herself that it’s because Bernie was there with her. This elicits a fresh wave of tears and Cameron pulls the duvet up to cover her chest, then lays down next to her and pulls her into his arms. She turns a little and curls into his side, tears soaking everything in the close vicinity. She feels his body start to shake a little and realises he’s crying too. How could he not; one of his mums is dead and the other one is yet again buried deep in grief.

They both hear Jason come in the room and they both feel him sit down on the bed but neither make much effort to move.

  
“Auntie Serena,” he whispers and she opens her eyes to see him holding out a shirt for her. She nods then sits up and slips it on, and then sees that Jason has brought up a tub of ice-cream, three spoons and his laptop. He shuffles to sit next to them both and plants the ice-cream in Serena’s lap. Turns on the TV and plays the slideshow of Ellie with photos of Bernie in there now too. Jason remembers the last time he did this, with Bernie, thirty four years ago to the day. One of his aunts away but one with him, and he thinks that somehow, he and Bernie got through it, so somehow he and Serena will too.

**Author's Note:**

> I know there was a big jump between 10 and 34 but I just couldn’t bring myself to drag it out any longer. I was an emotional mess whilst writing the last one and I could hardly see what I was typing because I was crying so much so I hope its legible. Thanks for reading!


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